


What You Want vs. What You Need

by orphan_account



Series: What vs. What [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Courtroom Drama, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Slash, Past Drug Addiction, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part three in What vs. What series, read the first two first, please.  Reid is trying to heal, but testifying in court, among other struggles, is only making things worse for him and his relationship with Morgan. The rating will probably go up later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go folks, the not so long awaited part three of the “What vs. What” series! Of cores if you have clicked on this without having read “What You Say vs. What you Mean” and “What You Know vs. What You Feel” in that order, you will NOT know what the hell is going on here. For those of you who have read the prequels, I hope this installment is everything you hoped it would be and more.

_“Of all the hardships a person had to face, none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.” Khaled Hosseini_

One month had passed sense Ethan’s arrest.

One long, excruciating month.

One short, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it month. 

Everything was in place for the trial that would begin promptly at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. The jury was selected and witnesses were scheduled. Justbecause Sandra Del’Amo, the prosecuting attorney assigned the case, wasn’t allowed to coach her witnesses, didn’t mean that a former prosecutor namely Aaron Hotchner hadn’t been doing just that. Behind Del’Amo’s back, he had secretly advised all three of his subordinates who would likely be testifying (Morgan, Garcia, and of cores Reid) on what to say, how to say it, and what NOT to say and how NOT to say it. Although Morgan and Garcia felt an added level of confidence in this, Reid felt as though he was slowly being driven insane to the point that he would voluntarily join his mother at Bennington. 

But in addition to the court lessons with Hotch, technical preparations with Del’Amo, and simply dealing with everything that had happened to him, something far darker weighed on the mind of Dr. Spencer Reid late on the night before the trial began. It had started after word of Ethan’s arrest had reached him, coming and going throughout the days that followed. By the time jury selection had been finalized a week ago, however, it was an almost constant presence. 

As he paced up and down the length of the kitchen at after ten o’clock that night, he felt it stronger that he ever had before. A hot, prickly feeling crept up and down his back and he felt as though something was literally swimming inside of his scull. He was fidgety, anxious, and no matter how tiered he was, he couldn’t lay still long enough to fall asleep. Even on the rare occasions he was able to close his eyes, all he could see was Ethan’s malicious grin and Morgan’s angry, pained face when he had first arrived home that dreadful Sunday morning. 

Reid paused mid stride when he noticed Morgan out of the corner of his eye and turned on a dime to face him.

“You coming to be anytime soon? It’s almost eleven.”

“I know. I just feel so restless and anxious. I just want all of this to be over, you know.”

Morgan nodded and slowly approached perpetually jittery lover. “I know,” he said reaching up to cup Reid’s face in his hands. It was still the only physical contact Reid could handle and he used it every chance he had. “But tomorrow is the beginning of the end. As soon as the trial’s over and Ethan’s in prison, we can finally start to really move on from this nightmare.”

Reid breathed heavily. _Of the nine out of forty-six percent of rapes that are reported that result in prosecution, only five will result in a felony conviction,_ he though but dared not say. Instead he pointed out a potentially huge problem. “We’re out of coffee.”

Morgan’s eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. “Spencer, you do NOT need coffee right now.” 

“I know. But I will in the morning unless of cores you would like a repeat of the Tulsa incident.”

Both men grinned slightly at that memory. During a case in Tulsa, Oklahoma several months earlier, a series of complicated events had led to Reid being deprived of coffee for nearly nine hours after waking from a very short sleep at their hotel. Reid had been so maliciously sarcastic toward the police chief there that the entire team had almost been kicked out of the precinct.

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll throw on some jeans and shoes and go get coffee.”

Reid shook his head. “I’ll go. A walk and some fresh air might be just what I need to get something resembling sleep tonight.”

“Wait, you’re not planning on walking to the corner store alone, are you?”

“Derek, it’s slightly more than three blocks; I’ll be fine. I’ll take my gun if you’re worried.”

 _I’m VERY worried,_ Morgan screamed in his mind. _Ethan’s out on bail and his happy ass could be anywhere in the county right now! I could never forgive myself if I let you out of my sight and something happened to you. Again._

Morgan said nothing in protest as he watched Reid strap his concealed carry holster that held a nine-millimeter semi-automatic handgun around his waist, put his wallet in his pocket, and slip on his shoes by the door.

“I’ll be right back,” Reid promised. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Morgan said back and watched Reid walk out the front door, closing it behind him. 

_I have to let him do what he fells like he needs to do,_ Morgan told himself, but it didn’t make letting Reid go out alone any easier. 

_I have to prove to him that I trust him._

_ **WIANWIANWIANWIAN** _

_No wonder Derek doesn’t trust me,_ Reid thought to himself as he walked quickly, his hands shoved in his pockets and chin against his chest. _I’m filthy liar!_

Reid did, in fact, purchase a can of generic brand classic roast coffee upon arriving at the twenty-four/seven corner store. If he went home without it, Morgan would have suspected his true purpose for leaving the house alone.

Outside the store, coffee in hand, Reid stopped at the payphone on the side of the building. Slipping in two quarters, he dialed the number that he cursed his eidetic memory for not letting him forget.

After a few rings, Reid was excited and terrified to hear the familiar raspy voice on the other line. 

“Yeah, it’s T-Rex.”

When Reid opened his mouth to identify himself, his voice caught and he couldn’t speak or even breath.

The voice on the line spoke again. “Hello? Who’s there?”

 _What am I doing!_

“Hello?!” the voice now became agitated.

_No. I can’t do this. I don’t need this._

“S…sorry,” Reid stammered. “Wrong number.” Reid slammed the phone down and gasped like he had been holding his breath, as he very well may have been. He wasn’t sure. All he was sure about was that he never wanted to come that close again. EVER. 

He practically ran home, nearly tripping over his on clumsy feet several times. When he arrived home he was out of breath. Concern was immediately obvious on Morgan’s face.  


“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked in a voice filled with love and worry and, despite knowing he shouldn’t, rushed toward Reid. To Morgan’s surprise, Reid did not flinch or back away. In fact, he did the opposite. He dropped the can of coffee on the floor and ran into Morgan’s arms, gripping his lover’s biceps and burying his face in his shoulder. Morgan put his arms around Reid as tightly as he dared. “Good God, Spencer, what happened?” 

“Nothing.” Reid’s voice cracked. “I just…I need you.”

“I’m here, Love. Always.”

Reid sniffled and blinked back a set of tears. He raised his head and the two men’s faces were inches apart. Morgan wanted so badly to lean in and claim those trembling lips with his own and kiss away the tears the other man for some reason felt he could not shed. He knew, though, that to do such a thing would ruin what they had in that moment.

“Tomorrow,” Reid whispered hopefully, “The beginning of the end right?”

Morgan nodded and Reid’s head fell back onto his shoulder. “It’ll all be over soon, Love. 

Standing there in the living room wrapped comfortably and safely in the arms of the man he loved and would love forever, Reid, for the first time, actually began to believe that.

_“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” Shel Silverstein_


	2. Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial begins with opening statements from the prosecution and defense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SO sorry I have taken a month to update! I’ve been suffering horribly from writes block lately! But now that I’m back I hope it was well worth the wait.
> 
> I also want to let everyone know that this fic will be the final installment of the series. I foresee approximately 12 chapters for this fic. Then it’s finished!

_“Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” Ralph Waldo Emerson_

“All rise,” shouted the stout bailiff from in front of the judge’s pedestal. “The Honorable Judge Ethyl Hasket presiding.” 

“Wipe that smug look off your face,” Defense attorney Paul Marquis spoke low through clenched teeth to his client Ethan Betchan.

The courtroom went silent save for the footsteps of Judge Hasket ascending her pedestal. She was a short elderly woman with perfectly curled white-blonde hair and bottle cap glasses. A pair of gaudy purple earrings and bracelets to match personalized the look of the traditional robe. 

“She always throws he book at rapists,” Prosecutor Sandra Del Amo murmured barely audibly to Spencer Reid, who hoped he did not appear as nervous as he felt. “Hates jazz, too.”

This statement brought a tug that was almost a smile to Derek Morgan’s face, though he still kept a close eye on Reid. By the time everyone had taken their seats again and the court called into order, Reid was practically trembling with anticipation and dread. Every so often he would squeeze Morgan’s hand under the table for reassurance. 

As Reid took in the surroundings of the courtroom, he couldn’t help but notice Ethan, who appeared to be sitting through a boring lecture rather than his own rape trial. He drew his focus away from Ethan and observed the jury. Eight men and four woman; seven Caucasians, three African-Americans, one Hispanic and one Asian; made up the panel that would decide how and if justice would be done. One of the women, juror number ten, reminded him of JJ. Her easy posture and friendly eyes made him feel at ease to look at her. 

Reid had been so caught up in observing the individual jurors that he barely noticed that it was now time for the prosecution and defense respectively to deliver their opening statements.

Sandra’s glossy-black high heals clacked across the hardwood floor as she approached the center of the room. Reid remembered for a moment what Hotch had said about her reputation.

_“They call her the chiropractor because she can bend any witness to her will. There’s a running joke that says she has an uncanny ability to make defendants put their foot in their mouth and their head up their ass.”_

The prosecutor smoothed her form-fitting maroon dress and began her speech to the jury of twelve.

“Men and women of the jury, you have all been called away from your daily lives to perform your civic duty in determining weather or not the defendant Ethan Betchan is guilty of the horrendous crime of rape against Dr. Spencer Reid, a man who was supposed to be a friend. Ladies and gentlemen, imagine for a moment, betrayal.” She paused shortly allowing the jury to absorb her words. “We have all experienced it. Dr. Spencer Reid experienced it in the worst way on the night in question when the man he trusted enough to allow into his home, the defendant Ethan Betchan, brutally raped him in his own living room. You will see physical evidence that paints the picture of fighting and injury. You will hear testimony that tells the story of struggle and pain. By the time I have rested my case, you will have no doubt that Ethan Betchan is a rapist of the worst bread, and should go to prison for as long as the law allows.”

Sandra had not even made it back to her chair before Paul was standing and miking his own way to the courtroom floor.

At the prosecutions table, Morgan sensed that Reid was becoming even more tense and his breathing a bit shallow. “Whatever that man says up there, remember that it’s all a lie. Anything he says it just to get his client off the hook. It’s business to him, understand?”

Reid simple nodded in response. 

“Members of the jury,” Paul began, “I’m not going to stand up here and tug on your heartstrings. Instead I’m going to show you evidence that my client and Dr. Reid were, once upon a time, in a relationship, and that they met for drinks on the night in question and things got sexual. I’m going to let you hear testimony that tells how a sexual game, not unlike those that my client and Dr. Reid were accustomed to in their past relationship, evolved. This game may have gone awry, but the evidence and testimony I will offer to you will show that the sexual encounter between my client and Dr. Reid was a consensual one, and that Ethan Betchan is not a rapist.”

Silence fell on the court again as Paul returned to the defense’s table. Reid know that Morgan was right, that Paul had only said those things in the interest of getting his client the verdict they wanted, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he used to have consensual sex with Ethan lessened what Ethan did to him. He wondered if what Ethan had done was really so horrendous and he was just overreacting either out of weakness or for the sake of appeasing his own conscience. He knew in his mind that none of this was true, but in his heart he was more confused that he had even been in his life.   
The voice of Judge Hasket pulled Reid out of his dangerous train of thought.

“The prosecution may now call their first witness.”

Sandra rose from her chair. “Thank you your honor. For my first witness, the prosecution calls the defendant Ethan Betchan to the stand.” 

_“'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.” William Shakespeare_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Time to ramp things up! We must wonder what kind of ass Ethan will make of himself on the stand. Until next time! 
> 
> There is a lovely little comment box at the bottom of the page that REALLY wants you to type stuff in it!

**Author's Note:**

> The first person to correctly guess who T-Rex is gets a cyber-cookie! Remember that name because it will come up again. And I hadn’t originally intended on taking this path with poor Reid, so you can all thank FF dot net reviewer Chrisadox!


End file.
